


Catch Your Breath

by seperis



Series: Something More [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-26
Updated: 2007-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epilogues to Something More.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Your Breath

When John steps through the wormhole, everything changes.

Rodney remembers this, remembers those times John would light up like this, rare and precious, stored memories that three years didn't dim, never faded, taken out and touched on the rarest nights, when he'd wander his city and feel its loss like his own.

That restless, endless *anger*, something eternally missing, the discoveries that he couldn't share, the worlds that he couldn't see, the universe he'd touched and lost. The city hums around him and he's waking up with it, the buzz of adrenaline and hope and sheer, unrelenting *relief*.

This is Atlantis, Rodney thinks, watching John in the middle of the mess, civilian uniform as a civilian contractor, surrounded by scientists and military alike, Elizabeth and Teyla and Ronon, old friends, acquaintances, survivors who never forgot him, would never have him go, won't ever let him go again. It's like discovery all over again, fresh and shocky, like being high, too bright and too intense, like waking up on Saturday, but better, because John's all the Saturdays in the world rolled into one. 

Like they've all been waiting, grieving for what they missed, now rejoicing in its return.

When John looks at him, sun bright and alive like no one Rodney's ever met, Rodney forgets to breathe.

"What?" John says, the dying Atlantean sun behind him like an orange-red halo, too desperately, ridiculously romantic for words to describe.

Before Rodney reaches for him, pulls him into a kiss that silences the room, touches him like they're alone, he realizes.

This is how you fall in love.

* * *

There's technically no such thing as gatelag, but that's because medical professionals are idiots. Rodney pulls the last drink from John's hand and slides an arm beneath his shoulder, shaking his head at Ronon's silent question. "Got him. Come on, flyboy."

"That's Dr. Flyboy to you," John says a little blearily, smiling up at Rodney for a blinding moment, and Rodney's heart skips a beat. Then he stands up, almost as steady as a person a hell of a lot more sober than John is right now.

Everyone's a little high tonight, Elizabeth brushing disbelieving fingers against John's shoulder, eyes still misty-wet, Teyla leaning against Ronon as they track John like he'll vanish if they look away. He knows exactly how they feel; he hasn't been able to stop touching John since they stepped through the wormhole and back into the real life that Rodney's marked time for three years to get back.

"Come on."

John's easy, loose with alcohol and something else, something that Rodney can't quite define, wrapped up in the people they left in the messhall and the city around them. Rodney doesn't even bother trying to get to his own quarters; he hasn't seen them since he got back and doesn't anticipate seeing them anytime soon. Tonight, he watches the city follow John like a lost child now found, leans into the doorway to see John's eyes close for a moment, tension rolling off him like water. 

Home, Rodney sees him mouth before he turns around, smiling mouth and brilliant eyes, luminescent even in the faint light from the balcony.

Rodney fights down a smile. "Sheppard. Sit down before you fall over."

"John," he whispers, turning in a slow circle, incandescent beneath the soft lights of Atlantis that had welcomed John home. "Just John."

Rodney watches John's face, the smile fading to something serious and soft, and Rodney remembers the way John stood in the messhall, surrounded by the people that had missed him most, accepting their touch with barely hidden bewilderment, and God. God. Reaching up, he peels the uniform jacket back, running his hands up beneath the red turtleneck of Elizabeth's personal staff, pressing his lips against the hollow of John's throat. "You're hot in colors, too."

John tilts his head. "Stay here."

Rodney bites gently through the material covering his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."

John shakes his head, and Rodney reaches up to run his fingers through the too-long hair, silky between his fingers. "That's not what I meant."

Rodney presses his forehead against John's for a second, closing his eyes. It's not real yet he's too high, too amazed, to feel it yet, let it settle beneath his skin into familiarity. He wonders suddenly if it ever will. "I know."

John undresses slowly, all that bright energy banked, set aside for now. John's changed in more than his silences. There's a quality of thoughtfulness that's new, tempering the recklessness into something far more dangerous than impulse.

These days, Rodney thinks, John knows exactly what he's doing.

"If they'd asked if had violated DADT, I would have had to tell the truth." John drops down on the bed, heavy-lidded green eyes coming open, vivid, stealing all the light of the room. "I would have said, I hadn't, but I was going to." 

God. Rodney pushes him back, hands clumsy on the button of his pants. John stretches out with a grin. "I never would have let you leave."

John leans over, pressing a smile against his mouth. "I know."

Rodney thinks of three years, long and difficult and wrong, curling a leg around John's thigh, catching his mouth in a messy kiss, remembering John's blush when Elizabeth's arms tightened around him, the way John's arms slid around Teyla, how he looked at Ronon, how he smiled at Zelenka. The way that when Rodney kissed him, John kissed back in front of that room, these people, their world.

There's a galaxy out there that Rodney's missed, planets that John will walk with him, alien skies in every color of the rainbow. They'll discover new artifacts and new civilizations and what the fuck, go where no one from Earth has ever gone before. 

"I want to see everything," John murmurs. Rodney wonders if Atlantis takes requests. "Tomorrow."

"Yeah." He kisses the words from John's mouth, feeling the smile curving against his face, and can't help but smile back.

"Rodney," John says, and Rodney smiles, grinding down to see John's eyes go glazed and vague. John groans softly, pressing up against him, hard and gentle. "McKay. Rodney. I am so drunk."

"You're just happy." Rodney rolls to the side, pulling John's head onto his shoulder.

"Yeah," John whispers, and some tension bleeds out of him as the lights lower completely, engulfing them in warm darkness. "I think I am."


End file.
